


Calendar

by PetraTodd



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Advent Calendar, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Humor, Mentions of Sex, Molly is strange and awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 01:57:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetraTodd/pseuds/PetraTodd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This Christmas season, Molly prepares for her husband a special Advent calendar, full of surprises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calendar

Sherlock knew he was in for a host of obnoxiously joyous holidays when he fell in love with Molly Hooper. Her zeal for ribboned packages, twinkling lights and seasonal music was matched only by Mrs. Hudson’s love for Christmas. Still, he didn’t foresee _this._

“But we already have a calendar. Why do we need another?” He pointed at the wall where a year’s worth of kittens hung- paper kittens, that was. The December cat sported a green bow between its ears and its paws were buried in false snow.

“It’s an Advent calendar, Sherlock. Did you delete those?” Molly laughed and kissed him hello. Stripping his Belstaff from his shoulders, she dropped the coat onto the sofa and led him to the calendar on the table. “Go on, open up December 1st!”

“I know what an Advent calendar is. I just don’t see the point. You’re trying to eat less chocolate and I rarely- have you done something to it?” Sherlock squinted at the festive calendar, each of the twenty-five days decorated with a different aspect of Christmas. A red-nose reindeer grinned at him from the door marked “1.”

There was something off about the perforated doors, now that he bothered to notice the ridiculous thing. It was clear they’d been tampered with. He glanced at Molly. “Did you do this or is someone trying to poison us?”

“You could at least pretend not to notice,” Molly sighed. “No one’s trying to kill us today.”

“So you say. You haven’t even asked how the case went,” Sherlock remarked, his eyes brightening. “It was more interesting than I thought it would be, actually. Almost an 8. The man was more inventive than most of the idiots we encounter. Blow darts are more useful than you’d think, really. The properties of the venom of the tip I think you’d find particularly- But that’ll keep.” He waved it away. He turned to his wife, his eyes skimming down her body. His mouth twisted into an artful pout as he took her into his arms, his fingers tugging at the knotted tie of her dressing gown. “I was hoping for less holiday chat and more…comfort.”

“Oh, comfort.” Molly’s dimples deepened. She slid an arm around his waist and smiled up at him. “Open the first day of the calendar- for me?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, his entire body sighing with annoyance as he reached back. “Obviously you swapped out the chocolate for something else. The perforation was undone and then sealed back. Nice job, by the way. Did you have help?”

“Yes, though it was a waste of effort apparently. But just this once, don’t deduce what’s in there, just open it.”

Sherlock opened his mouth as if to argue, but the determined look in his wife’s brown eyes cut him short. “Fine.” He tore open the reindeer door sloppily, and then raised an eyebrow at the tiny folded piece of paper concealed within. He plucked the paper out, and unfolded it, as Molly watched, her eyes gleaming.

Sherlock reread the slip of paper and cleared his throat. His eyes darted over to the weeks of sealed doors on the Advent calendar.

“I mixed up the papers before we put them into the different days so even I don’t know what’s where anymore. It’s a surprise for me too.” Molly finished untying the tie, and her red dressing gown fell to the floor, pooling at her feet.

Sherlock stared open-mouth at his nude wife and the paper in his hand. The shape of Molly’s calendar was clear in his head; a smile crept onto his face, picturing her writing out all the slips of explicit instructions of what she wanted him to do to her.

“’Intercourse, bent over the sofa while Sherlock stays clothed and smacks my ass?’” His left eyebrow rose again.

Molly’s cheeks turned pink with warmth and she nodded happily. “I thought I would run out of ideas for something different every day but to tell you the truth, I ran out of days!”

“Right. Well, it is Christmas, isn’t it.” The scrap of paper fell to the floor, as Sherlock took her hips in his hands and steered her over to the sofa.  “Seems only right to get into the spirit of it.”


End file.
